I hate golf.
I hate playing it. Hate watching it on TV. Hate how long it takes. Hate how bad I am at it. Hate how much it costs. Hate that everyone in my industry is better at it than me.
Candidly, if you ever played with me you may come to believe that golf hates me even more. I swing like I am trying to kill a bee. My feet fly out of my spikes like a parachuter. My body swings into a corkscrew of tangled parts. I putt with my legs split at the precise angle to take a #2 on the green without getting any on my shoes. My tee shots are so erratic that I thought that “Dick Out” was slang for mulligan.
Speaking of terminology, allow me to qualify my use of the term “hate.” I don’t actually hate the game. It’s probably more accurate that I’m a hater. But I don’t think I am alone. Most people are haters of things they suck at.
But if I am a hater, then surely I must now be rightfully considered a liar. Because dial me back to late Sunday afternoon, and there I was glued to my 55” Panasonic. Continue reading “Perfect Lie”